


even higher than we are strong

by lesblams



Category: Shadowhunters
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, coachella, technically follows show canon but is also au soooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6657055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesblams/pseuds/lesblams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Izzy, Magnus, and Alec take on Coachella, and Izzy falls in love with a red-headed angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even higher than we are strong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finkpishnets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/gifts).



> Written for my fave fandom soulmate [finkpishnets](http://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets)' birthday! Also I had the setting planned and then Kat actually went to Coachella and made my life. (Clary's wearing what Kat wore on day 2 if that's something you care to check out. Go look at her gorgeous face at least.)
> 
> A note on Izzy: this is set in a mundane universe, but she still has some rune tattoos. Not all of them, for reasons seen in the story.

If there’s one thing Isabelle Lightwood is grateful for, it’s Magnus Bane’s newfound presence in her daily life by means of dating her brother. 

She’d been wanting to attend Coachella for months now, but any mention of it to Alec only incited an impressive variety of eyerolls. Suddenly there’s Magnus, free-spirit extraordinaire, and Alec is not only finally out but also head-over-heels in love, and with only the slightest bit of pouting Magnus can get Alec to do whatever he wants. Including attending an outdoor, three-day-long music festival full of beer and weed and grungy hipsters.

It’s the middle of day two, and Izzy is equally thankful for the overcast weather preventing her from melting away into nothing. She’s still alternating water with any other substance intake - she wants to _live through_ and _experience_ what she paid for, after all - but there's grey enough skies and a cool enough breeze that her plaid shirt is still on her torso. For now.

The bands playing right now are fillers, 5-in-the-afternoon warm-ups for the main events, so Izzy, Alec, and Magnus are lounging at their campsite — Magnus and Alec wrapped up in each other, as always (and wasn’t _that_ something fun to sleep in the next tent over to each night), and Izzy reclined onto her elbows, letting the breeze trickle over her skin and leave goosebumps in its wake.

“Any particular sets we want to see tonight?” Magnus asks. Magnus is currently weaving together a flower crown, and the flowers are staying together so perfectly Izzy suspects he might actually be a wizard. Alec is looking at the festival schedule and the map side by side, trying to make any sort of sense out of them. Finally he tosses them both to the ground.

“Whatever stage we wind up getting lost around, I guess.”

Izzy smirks. Alec gives them grief, like always, but she knows it’ll only take a soothing hand from Magnus for him to calm down and enjoy himself, even for a minute. Magnus, as if reading her thoughts, trails a hand over Alec’s knee and leans up to give him a kiss.

Magnus’s phone buzzes, cutting the kiss short. Alec looks nothing short of annoyed.

“Hello?…Yes, biscuit, I am! Are you- what number was that again?” Magnus places the flower crown on Alec’s head, who jolts in unpleasant surprise, then grabs for the map and splays it across his lap, tracing the campgrounds with his finger. “So you’re in — across the lake? _Oh_ , I see! We’ll be over soon-ish!” 

“Please tell me we don’t have to be social.”

“AIec—”

“Who are we meeting?” Izzy interrupts. “Anyone we know?”

“An old friend. And another old friend, supposedly. No relation. Plus their mutual best friend/boyfriend.”

“Let’s go, then,” Izzy says. “I’m down to explore.” She can tell Alec is about to protest, but stops him. “For like, five minutes. It’s not like you don’t need the stretch anyway, BOG.”

“I don’t even want to know what that me-”

“Big Obnoxious Gi-”

“ _Fine_ ,” Alec says. “But you’re not allowed to drag me to anything with my sister anymore.”

“Oh, of course,” Magnus nods, but he winks at Isabelle once Alec is looking away.

* * *

 The Lightwood-Banes, which Alec forbade Izzy from nicknaming the group and Izzy promptly ignored, brought their own tents, but apparently Magnus’s friend was a car-camper, since her best friend drove some sort of band van. A small lake and some Coachella-specific pop-up shops separated the tent camp from the car camp, so it takes Izzy, Alec, and Magnus some time to reach the cars, and even more to locate any specific van out of the mess of parking. Magnus is frantically texting his friend trying to get specific locations, while Izzy and Alec are following his lead at a leisurely pace. 

While they’re walking, Izzy admires the sky for just a moment. The grey wall of clouds looks so close to breaking up and finally letting sunshine through. Izzy smiles, then returns her gaze to normal eye-level so as not to bump into Magnus.

And then, just as the clouds break and the sun comes streaming down, she sees _her._

In the back of a van with its doors propped open, there’s a girl wearing a white crocheted blouse, light blue shorts, and simple flower crown. The sun illuminates her fiery red hair cascading into curls around her face, as well as the golden spirals traced onto her arms, which she continues to paint even as Izzy stares. She’s in her own world, alone in the van and noticed but unapproached by the people in the next cars over. Izzy feels a tug in her gut, drawing her to this girl.

“Clary Fray!”

The girl’s head snaps up just as Izzy realizes that it’s _Magnus_ who’s called out to her. Her face lights up with a smile that nearly knocks Izzy over where she stands, and the smile isn’t even directed at her. The girl - Clary - hops off of the back of the van, and she and Magnus meet in the middle of the space between them with a hug that pulls Clary off her feet.

“Biscuit, how _are_ you?” 

“Good, Magnus, I’m good,” Clary giggles. “Who are your friends?”

“Ah! Yes, you haven’t even met Alec yet. Clary, this is my extremely handsome and _extremely_ wonderful boyfriend Alec.”

Alec nods in greeting at the same time Clary sticks out her hand for him to shake. After a moment, Alec grips her hand firmly but quickly. 

“I’m Clary. I like your flower crown.”

Alec frowns. “Um…thanks? I…I like yours, too?” He looks to Magnus, who quickly diverts the conversation.

“And Clary, this is Alec’s sister, Isabelle.”

Clary extends her hand to Izzy the same way she did to Alec. “That’s such a pretty name.”

“Thank you,” Izzy says, trying to ignore the fact that suddenly her stomach feels like it’s bouncing on a trampoline. “You can call me Izzy, though. Everyone does.” 

“Izzy,” Clary repeats, letting the name flow on a whisper through her teeth. Izzy’s breath catches. She realizes that she’s still holding Clary’s hand, but instead of letting go, she lets a thumb brush over a nearby spiral.

“These are pretty.”

“Do you want some?” Clary asks, wide-eyed and eager. Izzy’s not sure why, but she does. Oh, god, she does. “I could draw some on you. On all of you,” she adds, remembering Magnus and Alec. Alec’s already shaking his head.

“No th-”

“I’d love some!”

“ _Magnus_.”

“ _Alec._ ”

They stare at each other for a moment, a silent conversation passing between them. Izzy looks at Clary, who looks back at Izzy, concerned.

“Fine,” Alec bites. “But I think we can take turns. Izzy can go first, and you and I can go explore.”

“But-”

Alec raises his eyebrows at Magnus. Izzy can almost see the lightbulb flicker on over Magnus’s head.

“Oh! Well. Yes, that sounds - I think we can do that. You don’t mind, Izzy, do you? And Clary, I know we only just got here, but I promise we’ll come back-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” Clary says. She’s moved closer without Izzy’s notice, and suddenly her arm brushes up against Izzy’s. They’re close enough that Izzy can’t tell the difference between the ghost of a touch and mere wanting.

“Yeah, go ahead. Find yourselves a secret corner and—”

“ _Thanks_ , Izzy,” Alec deadpans. He grabs Magnus’s hand, and before Izzy knows it, they’re gone.

“As if they haven’t had enough ‘alone time’ this weekend. As if they haven’t had enough ‘alone time’ in the tent _right next to me_.”

Clary laughs, her nose scrunching up adorably. “I’m so sorry about that. I’d offer for you to come stay over here, but I’ve my own set of grumpy and excitable boys to worry about.”

Izzy’s not sure how to respond - _kick them OUT_ is really all that her brain is supplying - so she settles for smiling at Clary instead. Clary’s eyes light up as she remembers what she meant to do.

“Body paint! Right!” Her hand trails against Izzy’s arm, a soft way of coaxing Izzy to follow Clary back to the van. As she gets closer, Izzy sees more tubes of a rainbow variety of paint, palettes both dirty and clean with different sized brushes to match. Clary returns to her perch on the bumper, where the sunshine still hits them, and Izzy mirrors her.

Clary digs in her supply for her choice of paint. “So I have gold, if that’s want you want, but I also have silver and copper and regular paint…”

“Whatever you want,” Izzy says. She is truly not picky, and anything goes with black. She’s already shrugging off her plaid overshirt, exposing her black lacy bralette.

“Really?” Clary asks, then notices Izzy’s removal of clothing. She stares for a moment. If Izzy sits up a little straighter, back arched a little more, no one needs to know. “B-because I can go all out,” Clary continues, eyes snapping back up to Izzy’s.

“Do it,” Izzy says, extending her left arm out to Clary to do what she pleases.

“Can I — with your tattoos?” Clary asks, gesturing to Izzy’s upper arm. She reaches behind herself to grab a tube of red and a tube of yellow paint, with two different sizes of tiny brushes. Izzy’s not sure what Clary wants to do exactly, but she’s eager to find out. Izzy nods.

“They’re really pretty, by the way. Your tattoos. Do they mean anything?”

Izzy winces a little as the first drop of cold paint touches her skin, but she waves away Clary’s quiet _sorry_. “They’re runes. My parents owned a book about them for basically no reason, and my brother and I found it and just kind of started learning them. It felt like we were writing in our own secret code.” Izzy can feel Clary swirling the yellow paint across her skin, matching the swirls in her upper tattoo. She can’t help but notice the way Clary’s head tilts as she works, the way she worries her lower lip with her teeth. “And then we got older, and we were able to legally get tattoos, and we thought, why the hell not? So now we both have some. I want to get even more. Maybe like a rune sleeve down this whole arm.”

“That would be really cool,” Clary murmurs. “I think I’ve seen some of these before, in one of my art history classes. I can’t remember what they mean, though.” She switches to the red paint and larger paintbrush, and makes larger strokes connecting down to the second tattoo.

“This one means strength,” Izzy says, pointing to each rune in turn without touching the work Clary has done, “and the one on my wrist means agility.” 

“And this one?” Clary creates a broad stroke down the line of Izzy’s bicep, following the path of the lower rune.

“Healing.”

“Hmm,” Clary says. Izzy’s glad she doesn’t ask. “And what about the one on Alec? The—” She pulls away for just a second to trace a similar line on her own neck.

“Deflect,” Izzy says. Clary frowns, confused. _Why_? is written all over her face. “I know, I know. I’ve actually thought about getting one, too. But we… we have our stuff. You know?”

Clary nods. “Don’t we all.” She returns to Izzy’s arm. They sit in silence for a while, and it’s…nice. Really nice. Clary concentrates on her work, and Izzy is fascinated by what Clary creates. She adds blues and purples, blending one into one another until they look like a rainbow surge of…power? Warmth? Acceptance? It nearly covers all of Izzy’s bicep, with some swirls even trickling down to her forearm.

Clary pulls back and inspects her work. “Well? What do you think?” 

“I love it,” Izzy says honestly. “Thank you so much.”

Clary smiles gratefully, then looks around. “I could do more. It doesn’t look like Magnus and Alec are coming back yet.”

“If you want,” Izzy says. “What would you want to do?”

Clary thinks for a moment. “Wait - I think I actually do remember one of those runes from art class. It was really easy, but - I could do that!” She reaches for an already used palette covered in a rusty red - the same color as Izzy’s tattoos. “Where would you want it? On your arm?” 

“No, I like what you’ve done there. Just-“ Izzy looks over wherever there’s a bare patch of skin, contemplating, then smirks. All or nothing. “Here.” She pulls her hair out of the way, lets it fall behind her back so that her chest is exposed. “If you want.”

She can see Clary gulp, but Clary nods. “Yeah, yeah, that’s - that’s fine.” 

Clary dips her paintbrush into the paint, then brings it to just above Izzy’s heart. Her teeth is back between her lips, and Izzy’s so distracted by her that the wet paint shocks her again. Clary presses lightly, but Izzy can tell she’s not getting the angle she needs.

“Can I—”

Clary propels herself upward, onto her knees, and suddenly her knee is between Izzy’s thighs, a hand balanced on her shoulder. A surge of heat flows through Izzy’s veins, settling in her stomach.

“Is this okay?” Clary asks, their faces close enough that she only needs to whisper.

“More than,” Izzy responds.

Clary’s gaze dips lower, and so does her paintbrush, lower, lower, crossing and following sharp angles that meet right between Izzy’s breasts. Izzy feels like she can’t breathe, can’t move. The bottom of Clary’s shorts are brushing against Izzy’s thigh, Clary’s shirt dipping away from her chest far enough that if Izzy were to look down, she could —

But she doesn’t. She wants to respect this girl. This beautiful, charming girl, who’s perched on top of Izzy in a position Izzy herself has been in many times before, but only with men, and she’s certainly (and unfortunately) never been on the receiving end of it. It’s dizzying, how breathless she is at this moment. She isn’t one to deny any part of her sexuality, especially after how hard she had to prod Alec to even acknowledge that he likes boys, but this is the first time she’s ever felt so upswept, so _intimate_ with a woman. It’s completely unexpected and completely exhilarating at the same time.

The shape Clary makes mirrors itself, the rust-colored angles standing out against Izzy’s skin just like her tattoos do, and far too soon, paintbrush leaves flesh. Izzy looks down at Clary’s handiwork, and blissfully, _thankfully_ , Clary doesn’t move.

“I don’t recognize this rune. What does it mean?”

Clary licks her lips. “Angel.”

_Oh god._ Clary’s bitten her lips into redness, and Izzy wants nothing more than to reach up and — 

“Clary?”

_Fuck_.

There’s an entire group standing behind Clary. A boy who’s wearing glasses and a cut up Star Wars shirt stands at the forefront, and seems to be the one who spoke. His hand is linked with another boy’s, who might be the single-handedly best dressed person at Coachella, though his clothes resemble something you would see at an upscale lounge instead of a music festival. Magnus Bane’s arm is also thrown around this boy, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and Alec stands to the side, shoulder nudging against Magnus’s.

“Simon! There you are.”

Clary hasn’t moved, and Simon seems to take note of this. “Yeah! Here I am. Um. Tove Lo’s about to play, and-”

“Wait, I thought she didn’t come on until 8?”

“It’s 7:45,” the unnamed boy chimes in, throwing in a look at his expensive watch for good measure.

“Wait, really?” Clary looks back at Izzy, who shrugs. Time wasn’t exactly a priority for her at the moment.

“Yes, really,” the boy says dryly. Izzy sees Simon squeeze his hand before gesturing to Clary.

“Are you going to introduce us to your…friend?”

“Oh, this is Izzy,” Clary says. She climbs down from Izzy’s lap, and Izzy tries not to look upset by the change. “She’s Alec’s sister. Did you meet Alec?”

“Yes,” Alec says, his tone matching the boy’s. Izzy’s sure they’d get along just great.

“I’m Simon,” Simon says and waves at Izzy. “This is my boyfriend, Raphael.”

Raphael nods at her. Magnus’s arm is still draped over his shoulders.

“Do you two know each other?” Izzy asks.

“Oh, we go way back,” Magnus says, at the same time Raphael says, “It’s a long story.”

_Well then._

“We should probably start heading over,” Clary says. “Oh, Magnus, I didn’t get a chance to paint you!”

“Tomorrow, biscuit,” Magnus says, and holds his hand out for Clary to take. They start walking towards the stages, and the rest of the group follows.

Alec walks beside Izzy. Izzy’s thankful they’re at the back of the group, because for once she doesn’t have to jog to keep up.

“You didn’t tell me you were into girls,” he says.

“You know, I honestly don’t think I knew. But now I do. And Alec? I definitely like girls.”

Alec rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Great job, sis.”

“Thanks, big bro,” Izzy says. She gives him a quick hug, all the way up on her toes since she wisely chose sandals that day, then skips up to the front to walk with Clary, who’s absolutely beaming.

* * *

Most of the sets Izzy’s been to at Coachella so far have been pretty similar — a swarm of bodies, more stuffed or spread out depending on the time of day or how popular the artist is, and said artist who’s singing a set designed for a group of stoned and/or drunk hipsters. The ambiance is passionate, with everyone in love with everything, and for Tove Lo the crowd is thick enough that Izzy’s back is pressed to Clary’s front.

Izzy’s trying not to think of how well they fit, how Clary’s a few inches taller and if Izzy were to just lean back… She’s distracted, though, by how Clary’s singing every word perfectly into Izzy’s ear.

If Izzy looks to the side, she can see Simon and Raphael in a similar position, Simon beaming, Raphael only showing a hint of a smile which must mean _everything_ , their hands intertwined, and if she were to look back she would see Magnus and Alec completely in their own world. She’s so happy, and so free, and she just wants to get lost in the feeling of the music and of Clary surrounding her.

And then it starts to rain.

The crowd cheers, and the music pulses even louder through the speakers, and Izzy looks down and sees the droplets of water slowly washing away the rainbow spirals up and down Izzy’s arms. The gold on Clary’s pale skin is washing away too, and they’re close enough that the paints intermingle before they drip to the ground.

Izzy turns to Clary, face to face and chest to chest. “Oh no, you worked so hard on these!”

Clary laughs. Her curls are softening, the flower crown going limp. “It’s just paint. Sometimes that’s how art is. We create, and then we let it go.”

Izzy smiles. Clary’s white blouse is stained red, blue, yellow, green, gold. It’s ruined. It’s perfect. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Izzy thinks that neither of them are talking about the paint anymore.

She cups a hand over Clary’s hair, not bothering to entangle her fingers in the strands since they’re so wet (someday, _someday_ ). Clary’s hands wrap around Izzy’s waist on the bare skin between her bralette and her plaid shirt, now tied around her hips and utterly soaked. Izzy gently pulls down Clary’s head, rises up on her toes, and meets Clary’s lips halfway.

Izzy can taste the salt from the rain, the sweetness from tea Clary was drinking at her camp. Clary’s lips are soft, gentle, meeting Izzy’s kiss for kiss and even taking the lead. She runs her hands across Izzy’s back, giving her chills and pulling her higher into Clary’s embrace. Izzy thinks maybe she could stay right here forever and be just fine.

The crowd shifts, someone bumps Clary from behind, and, startled, they part for just a second. Izzy uses the moment to catch her breath. Clary uses the moment to ask, “Do you want to stay here?”

Izzy’s confused — wasn’t Clary the one who wanted to come here in the first place? “I mean, we could. We don’t have to.”

“Well, I have a van I think we could use to our advantage while our boys are distracted.”

Now _that,_ Izzy is down for. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on the [tumblr](http://cressdarnelthorne.tumblr.com) and also wish [Bobbie](http://madroxed.tumblr.com) a happy late birthday!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] even higher than we are strong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732868) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




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